


rhapsody in gold

by zigur



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Fluff, M/M, Soulmates, Urban Fantasy, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zigur/pseuds/zigur
Summary: You see him from a mile away, his light blonde hair glowing under the soft light of the winter sun as his heavy boots smack loud against the wet concrete under them. There’s a mischievous smile on his face that doesn’t quite suit the gloom of the empty streets around him, and his laughter ripples through the air as he runs, the end of his orange scarf swaying loosely with the wind behind him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> uh heres a thing i proofread half of it sorta

First, you see the boy running. 

You see him from a mile away, his light blonde hair glowing under the soft light of the winter sun as his heavy boots smack loud against the wet concrete under them. There’s a mischievous smile on his face that doesn’t quite suit the gloom of the empty streets around him, and his laughter ripples through the air as he runs, the end of his orange scarf swaying loosely with the wind behind him.

He’s– breathtaking. From the tanned glow of his skin to the soft curve of his lips to his crooked (broken?) nose and long, long legs. He’s beautiful, _bright_ , and the feeling hits you like a wall:

 _I know you_ , it whispers on your mind, absurdly.

It’s ridiculous, because you’d know, of course. If someone like this had been in your life, you’d know.

But the fact is that you’ve walked through many places, you’ve seen myriads of people, and none of them have ever been like this one.

There is something in your blood telling you this one is special.

“Get a grip.” You tell yourself, trying and failing to take your eyes away from him.

And it’s then, as you look closer and as the boy gets nearer, that you realise that he isn’t as much running as he is being chased.  

There is a tall burly man trailing him, face twisted with anger that contrasts sharply with the look of carefree amusement of the one he’s chasing. He exudes ill intent, and your stomach rolls uncomfortably with the potential disaster about to unfold. 

Just as you think about it, it happens:

The boy makes a sharp left, heading towards you, and the man chasing him staggers as he tries to follow. It buys the boy some distance, but it only seems to anger his chaser even further, because suddenly, familiar sounding words are echoing in the air and–

you move before you even realise it.

As soon as the boy runs past, you place yourself in the path he just ran through, standing between him and his would-be assailant.

What falls from your lips are whispered words that might as well be carved into your soul with how naturally they come forth, and their timing is perfect – just as the curse starts to manifest itself in the air, a wall of darkness rises from the ground, shielding the both of you from it.

You hear a startled gasp, but you don’t pay it any mind.

The wall dissolves into the ground, shadows gathering before forming tendrils of static darkness at your feet, and you see a face of astonishment quickly morph into panic as they reach towards the stranger. 

One grabs him by the ankle, pulling him face first into the ground and tying itself around his legs. A second one does the same to his arms, twisting itself around his hands, trapping them together behind his back, and a third one hovers by in front of him, almost threateningly.

The man squirms, nervous, scared, but doesn’t do anything and you thank your stars for it.

“Hey!” Someone yells, startling you. You'd almost forgotten about the boy, assumed he had gone his merry way now that some thoughtless loser had his captor's attention.

You were wrong, it seems, and you feel your stomach sink, fear twisting in your chest as the realisation of what you’ve done hits you like a fucking train. And honestly, w _hat were you thinking_ , they’re gonna burn you at the goddamn stake nevermind how antiquated it might be, they’re going to kill you and you’re going to die and oh gods, Jason’s gonna cry and Reyna is going to curse your eternal soul.

You look around for a place to disappear into or out of, but the boy is already inserting himself in your space, standing before you and–

There is a smile on his face, brighter than even the sun has any right to be.

“Thanks for the help.” He says, sounding winded and looking at you with a strange gleam in his eyes but looking no less cheerful than he was when you first spotted him. “I was starting to get a little tired, maybe.”

“Uh.” Very clever. Try again. “Hm. You’re welcome?” You manage to pluck your eyes away from his smile, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Can you believe this asshole has been chasing me for nine blocks? Who does that, you know?” He sounds outraged, but the expression on his face is still soft, and the way he’s looking at you hasn’t changed.

He seems completely unbothered by the sentient shadows you just summoned.

“Why was he after you?” You ask, looking back to where the man is staring suspiciously at the mass of darkness standing before him.

“I have no idea! He just started chasing me out of nowhere!” He sounds very genuine, but the man squeals in protest, face red with anger and blood dripping from his nose as he lifts his face to look at the two of you.

“You stole from us, you piece of–” He yells, and the shadow standing before him moves to cover his mouth before he can finish his sentence.

You turn back to the boy, lifting a brow at him.

“It’s not stealing if what you steal is already stolen, _Gareth_. It cancels it out, everyone knows this.” He yells back, looking completely unbothered.

“I don’t think that’s true.” You frown at him.

“Not in this language, maybe.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Not to you, maybe.” He smiles, just as bright as before, and you’re speechless. “I’m Will, by the way.” A hand, extended and a faint look of nervous expectation on his face.

“I–” You stare at it, before looking back at Will. There’s anxiety humming in every cell in your body now. You want to be rational, to let the paranoia that usually clouds your every thought flow freely and think that this might be a trap, that there’s something that doesn’t seem right, something _off_ about someone not being terrified of you after witnessing what you can do.

You want to be careful and guarded, you want to be alert, but–

Will’s smile is sincere, so warm and gentle, and your blood still pumps with the feeling that something about this boy is different, special, that it’s okay to trust him.

You bite your bottom lip.

“I’m Nico.” You say, and you shake his hand.

His touch is warm, and a wave of comfort rushes through you at the feeling. You try to smile, because Jason tells you it’s a friendly thing to do, but you must fuck it up given how shaken by it Will seems, so you stop and pull your hand back.

He blinks, looking lost for a few seconds, and you’re about to ask him if he’s okay when his smiles returns, inexplicably fond and happy.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nico.” He says, and his voice is soft and genuine, if somehow loaded with emotions you can’t quite discern. “I’m really happy to see you.” He seems to _mean_ this, and you frown, but he goes on before you can think of anything to say. “You should come have coffee with me.”

  
_What_. 

“I– what?”

“Have coffee with me,” His smile grows, and the faint blush on his cheeks doesn’t seem to bother him. It must be nothing compared to yours given how hot your entire face feels. “Please? It’s not everyday I meet a cute witch who saves my ass from being cursed all the way back to Brazil.”

“ _What._ ” You breathe out, and Will seems amused beyond measure, even if the expression on his face is the gentlest you’ve ever seen.

“As a thank you for helping me?”

You take a deep breath, trying to settle the anxiety that struck you. You can work with that, at least.

“Okay. Yeah. Coffee sounds good.” You say, and you didn’t think Will’s smile could get any brighter, but it seems you were wrong.

You look away, both in fear of being blinded and to stop any more rambunctious feelings from stirring up in your chest.

“What about him, though?” You admit, you had forgotten the man tied up on the ground until you catch him wriggling with the corner of your eye.

He stops his squirming to stare up at the two of you, looking thoroughly irritated at being forgotten. You’ve been through too much bullshit situations in your life to be concerned about it, however.

You wonder if that should worry you.

“I can put him to sleep, I guess. We can just find a warm place to stash him around here until he wakes up.” The man protests, but the shadows over his mouth muffle the curses he’s spewing, so you don’t pay any mind.

Will sighs before walking towards him and kneeling.

  
“Listen, Gareth. You win some, you lose some; it happens, okay? Don’t beat yourself up over it.” He pats Gareth’s shoulder, ignoring the way the face staring up at him contorts with seething fury, before muttering a few words under his breath.  

“Neat trick.” You say. “Couldn’t you have done that from the start, though?”

Will gets up, dusting off his knees before smiling up at you. “Nah, not really. I’m no good at range spells. I need to at least be very close to a person for something to happen. Kind of a bummer, but it’s cool, you know.” He seems more resigned than anything, and he seems to sense your intention to protest, because he goes on. “So, coffee?”

It’s a bad non sequitur, but you see it for the attempt of changing the subject it is, and you take it, unwilling to force someone you barely know into talking about something they’re clearly not comfortable with.

“Lead the way.” You say, and it seems to be the right course of action, because his smile is back at full force.

You pretend you don’t feel your heart staggering in your chest.

  
  


Having spontaneous coffee dates with strangers is not something you do often – or at all –, but something about Will makes it so easy to be around, so comfortable. You’d worry about being lured, but you're too attuned to how it feels to not notice if it was happening again.

You wonder if it’s his kind of magic. You have no way of phrasing that question, and he seemed somewhat uncomfortable with talking about it, so you didn’t ask, but it could be possible.

You have a distinct feeling that’s not it, however.

And true, your ‘distinct feelings’ don’t really have a good track record, aren’t in any form or way a paradigm of correctness, but this time feels different.

Being around Will just feels _right_ , like trusting Reyna had back when you first met her.

“So,” He says, breaking the silence. “Not to be invasive, but umbrakinesis?” He asks, and usually, this would be it. This would be where you shut off, where discomfort would prick at your every cell and you’d retreat back into your shieldwall, away from prying eyes.

But here, walking down the deserted streets of a borderline abandoned part of town with a boy made of pure gold, you just feel…

At ease. 

Not exactly comfortable with the subject– there’s still the usual bubbling of nervousness on your belly–, but not overwhelmed with how _un_ comfortable you feel. It’s not the usual soul-crushing anxiety that comes with any type of question about yourself. It feels manageable, bearable, it doesn’t make you want to sink into the nearest shadow and slip away forever.

You don’t realise how long you’ve been quiet until he starts talking, clearly taking your silence as hesitant unease. “You don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to! I’m sorry, it was rude of me to ask, but what you did back there was _so_ cool and you didn’t even need to do it, like you didn’t need to help me, you know? But you did, even though you didn’t know how I’d react, even though you didn’t even know I was a witch too and–”

“Will.” You stop his rambling, a smile threatening to manifest itself on your lips. It’s nice to know you’re not the only one who’s nervous about this situation. “It’s fine. I mean, usually you’d be right. I don’t really like talking about it, but–” Here you hesitate, looking away from him to gather the courage to continue. “I don’t know. It feels okay to talk about it with you. And it felt right to step in to help you as well.” Your face heats up again, and when you manage to look back at Will, you see that you’re not the alone. “Especially since your chosen strategy seems to be just running and _hoping_ nothing hits you.”

“Excuse you, I am very good at running and making sure things don’t hit me, I’ll have you know.” He says, looking so confident that you can’t help but snort.

“If you say so.” He pouts, feigning irritation, and you chuckle before you can stop yourself. At that, he looks lost, almost stunned, and you wonder if you’re so unused to expressing positive emotions that it looks jarring, but you decide not to dwell on it. “Anyway, yes. Umbrakinesis is a thing I do, though it’s only my secondary.” And this is where the dread and anxiety never fail to resurface, rumbling in your heart and in your stomach, making you wonder if you shouldn’t just go away and disappear right this instant. 

You don’t.

Instead, you take a deep breath, looking at Will before deciding it’s not going to help if you catch the fear and disgust that will almost certainly be marring his face, and turning your eyes to the ground. “I’m a necromancer.”

You wait for it. The usual frightened gasp, the sharp intake of breath, the stepping a little further away from you and cancelling plans.

It never comes.

Instead, you hear a soft chuckle of amusement, and you look up, confused.

You catch Will as he bites his lips to stop from laughing, and as he fails to do so.

“What?” You ask, a mix of shocked, hurt and defensive.

“No, no, I’m sorry. Heavens, I’m terrible at this, sorry. I’m not laughing at you, it’s just…” He giggles, unable to stop himself, and you’re torn between wanting to run away and wanting to stay and try to pluck that sound, that expression from him time and time again. “We’re literally polar opposites.” You must’ve looked confused, because he giggles some more. “I’m a healer with photokinesis.”

You take a while to process that, stopping in your tracks.

“You have got to be shitting me.” It’s what comes out when you try saying something, and it seems to spur Will on, and he laughs even harder.

You’re torn between being cynical, amazed, and just forgetting everything about it and appreciating the sound of his laughter.

“This life is really going all off. This is some next level cosmic shit at play.” He says once he manages to get his laughter under control.

“So, you have nothing against me being–?” The nervousness is back, undeterred by Will’s nontraditional and seemingly harmless reaction at something most people would outright recoil at.

“What? No, no. Death is a part of life, like any other. There’s nothing intrinsically bad about it, nothing bad about having a power that relates to it. It’s part of the cycle, part of nature, just like everything else.” He looks focused and sincere, and your stomach twists with relief and the same inexplicable affection that has been almost constant since you set eyes on him.

“Thanks.” You smile at him, really smile, and he seems so flustered and amazed that you have to look away. “Can I ask you something now?”

“Yes! Yes. Of course.”

“The thing you stole from that Gareth witch…?”

“Oh!” He turns around, shoving his hand into a messenger bag you hadn’t realised he was carrying and pulling out an ancient looking book for just long enough for you to see it properly before shoving it back inside. “Ancient green spell book. My friend Kayla is an earth-witch and her birthday is coming up, so.” He shrugs, like stealing something for your friend’s birthday is a completely normal endeavour he often finds himself taking part in. “Oh, that witch’s name wasn’t Gareth. Actually, I don’t know his name, so it _might_ be Gareth, but we can’t really be sure. I, particularly, don’t doubt it.”

“You stole an ancient artifact from another witch or coven for your friend’s birthday?” It’s so absurd you have to repeat it out loud to make sure you got it right. “Why did you call him Gareth, then!”

“Dunno. He just looks like a Gareth to me. Like, did you ever doubt it when I called him Gareth?”

“No, because i thought you _knew him_!”

“Well, you still didn’t doubt it which means it suits him. He should keep it.” He says, looking very much amused at your disbelief. “Also, the book was already stolen. So what’s the harm, you know? They’re not even green witches, they were just gonna hoard it or something. Kayla comes from a long line of green witches, so the laws of the world would give her precedent over them anyway.”

“You’re a very strange person.” You say, for lack of anything else, but Will is giggling again, looking at you with soft eyes and you figure you don’t mind it at all.

“You were the one who helped a complete stranger being righteously chased.”

“I didn’t _know_ it was righteous! I never assume cute boys are trouble, which is my mistake.” The words are out of your lips before you can even process them, and you stop in your tracks as you hear Will let out a soft gasp and realise what you just did.

You feel your face heat up to the point where you’re wondering if it’s not actually on fire, and when you look at Will you see that he’s not faring much better.

There’s a longing expression on his face that you don’t really understand, though, but it’s not there for long before a look of determination replaces it.

“This is silly.” He says, startling you. “Can I kiss you?”

“ _What?_ ” You think you might have misheard him, but his face darkens further and he seems almost sheepish, but very resolute about it. “ _Why_?”

“Both of us would die and rot before I was done listing my reasons, Nico.” He says your name like it’s sacred, something to be cherished and your heart swells. “Can I? You’re free to reject me, of course, just say the word and I’ll drop it.”

“Don’t be foolish.” You really should start thinking more about what you say before you say it. Will grins at your words, though, half amused, half relieved.

“Is that a yes?”

“I– Who just asks like that!” You say, and though your outrage is real, you’re very much aware that it’s just covering up your embarrassment.

“So no?”

“Yes, of course it’s a yes!” As soon as the words are out, Will is surging forward, somehow both too slow and too fast, and you don’t even have time to think before his lips meet yours.

His lips are very soft, and that's all you can think before you feel _it_.

It’s like an electric current rushing through your veins, your arteries, your capillaries, all the way to your brain, your lungs, your heart. You can’t breathe and you can’t think, you just _feel_ and you see–

a thousand different pasts, a million different futures, presents. All the nows and thens, everything that has been and is, and in each and every one of them you see it. 

 _Him_.

He’s there, always there, a constant, even if the times and places, even if you yourselves are not; his smile, the brightness in his eyes, there every time.

You see yourself waking up next to him in your bed, in a hospital room, in a cheap hotel, on the floor of a dank building, in a forest, on an airplane.

You see yourself kissing him in Italy, in Argentina, in Malaysia, Russia, Cuba, Hong Kong.

It’s _him_ , without a question, without a doubt, and he always _always_ finds you, no matter what, no matter where.

Will still has his eyes closed when you pull away and open yours, breathless and stunned. There is gold gushing from his aura, you notice, bright and viscous, floating in the air and circling the both of you with its shine. There is opal seething from yours as well, intertwining itself with Will’s golden as it follows the same path, glimmering under the pale sun.

It all makes him look ethereal, celestial, and you _remember_.

You jump into him, burying your head on the curve of his neck.

“One of these days, darling, you’ll have to find me first.” He says, soft and brimming with emotion. “You always take so long to remember, I’d be offended if I didn’t love you so much.”

“It’s because I can never quite believe you’re real.” You say, hugging him tighter, closer, and feeling as he exhales, as his shoulders slump.

“You always know what to say, it’s hardly fair.” His laugh is light, relieved, and he hugs you back just as tight.

“How long have you–?” You don’t finish the thought, but he understands. He always does.

“Always, in a way. You know I see you in my dreams; I just didn’t know what it was, or how to look.” He pulls away, only enough so he can look at you without strain. “Some of it rushed back when I touched you before and I knew what to do, somewhat.”

“I don’t dream. And I don’t think I’d dream of good things if I did.”

“I know. That was my gift to you, remember?” He’s right; it’s blurry, but you remember it, infinite lives ago. _Rest_ , he had said back then, _I won’t let them touch you, not even in your dreams– so rest_. “It’s up to me to do all the work, as usual.” He sighs, melodramatic and fake and so over the top that you can’t help but laugh. “There! I have found it! The only sound that has the power to heal my tired and sorrowful soul; rare as it is magical, beyond even the puny ways of witchcraft we adhere to in this day and age. It is my life mission to hear it again and again.”

“You are such a fucking nerd.” You try to sound nonchalant, but you’re _bursting_ with joy, and nothing, not even the breaking of the world, could drop the smile from your face.

Will laughs, and you see his happiness resonating through the air, ripples of gold that dissolve into the atmosphere, gone but still _there_.

“Fuck, I missed you _so much_.” He says, and grabs you by the waist.

He’s taller in this life, stronger, and he lifts you up with little effort, hugging you and spinning you around, and everything about him is gold, bright and beautiful.

You can’t help but laugh along and think that finally, in this life, you found peace.

  


**Author's Note:**

> dont ask me what this is because i dont know i just started writing and it happened ? took me less than a week too,, depression auntie is shook
> 
> will is brazilian theres a gratuitous headcanon bc i am brazilian and i like to cry imagining my favs r as well
> 
> anyway i hope yall like it??? pls pls pls leave me a comment if u do )):


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